70 } *\.> ' ^h , \, , <:: ">,; < " : :&- ,..' j ..1 L ' " ' - " / .,-' .>:' ;,< ;4 f ;(41 )t' ;>Jø , }' ',} i .< i*tr J< / .,' , < \ ., " ' '("""' I '. ::!,- .. :.\ . , '^ "4\ ' , , ,{ -'j;, ,,, ,- ' ,' >Jj 'J"' .:; \! (':<-t ! :^:.( 0". :.7. , " ,,' 0(. ':.. e , e e e e Bicycling in the city is no fun, and trans- porting your bike to pedalling country is a hassle. With Folding HaverBike you can now have best of both worlds. Simply fold it and put it in your car. When you get there, snap it up and pedal off for fun and healthful exercise. HaverBike weighs only 35 Ibs. and measures 30x28xll" when folded-two fit in trunk of standard car. Splendid Italian import has double loop frame, rustproof hardware, Pirell i tires and stainless steel rims, and double caliper brakes. Comes with pump, bell, headlamp, taillamp, reflector pedals, sidestand and toolkit as standard equip- ment. Fully adjustable-one .size fits men, women and children. Get Folding Haver- Bike today and bring snap to weekends and vacations. Available in blue or red. o Please send me_Folding HaverBikes @ $99.95 in color. My check in this amount, plus $8.00 per Bike for freight and insurance, is enclosed. {California deliveries please add tax.> Return in two weeks for full credit or refund if not delighted. MasterCharge or BankAmericard welcome. N Y0930 Name Address Zip MC or BA # Card expires Signature haverhills 331 584 Washington St., San Francisco, Ca. 94111 ing Sandawe. Of these drawings the Hadza say shyly, "How can we know? " Pressed, they ascribe them to the Old People or to Mungu (God), searching uur faces in tht: hope of learning which answer we prefer. A T the cave is the game scout Nan- gai, come on foot from Yaida Chini to fetch back his young wife, Ka- baka, daughter of Giga "\\Tho knows why she ran away r" Nangai shrugs, smiling shyly at his sullen wife. Giga, holding his ornamented grandchild to his cheek, rolls his eyes and croons. Tea is served by sad-faced, discreet Gimbe, h " K . b h ." " \ "XT I w 0 says, . arz u c az ( 'v e come to tea" ). \Vith his wood ladle he stirs maize meal into boiling water to make the thick white paste called ugali that is subsistence in East Africa; ugali, eaten with the fingers, is rolled into a kind of concave hall used to mop up whatever is at hand in the way of meat, vegetables, and gravy. Soon he presents a bowl of water in which the right hand is to be dipped and rinsed prior to eating, be- cause here in the cave our pasha, or ra- tion, is eaten from a COmI110n bowl. The Muslim custom of eating only with the right hand comes up from the coast by way of the part-Arab Swahili, once the agents of the trade in sLlves and ivory; so does the marimba, cdlled irimbako by the Hadza, who have no musical in- strument of theIr own. The flat-bar zither is a hollow box faced with tuned strips of stiff metal that produce soft, swift, wistful rhythms, and the old one here at Gidabembe is passed from hand to hand. It is Giga who plays it by the fire as we dine on ugali and doves. A visitor to Gid lbembe has come from a small camp in the SIpunga Hills, where he helps take care of a young in valid, apparently an epileptic. l.last year, this boy was badly burned when he fell into a fire, and was led across the hills to the clinic in Mbulu, but after two days he ran away, back to Sipunga. ThIs spring, left alone in camp, he fell again into the fire and was burned so drastically that he can no longer move. Magandula has borrowed a wood comb from Giga; perched on a rock, he comhs hi'\ head for a long tIme without discernible results. According to Ma- gandula, it is only the influence of civilI- zation that prevents the Sipunganebe from deserting the man burned, and the Hadza cheerfully agree: among nomad- ic hunter-gatherers, who cannot afford responsibility for others, such desertion is I quite common. Only last year YaIda sa} s, a man in fever was abandoned in the mountains: "We left him his bow, but he could not live; surely he was eaten by lIons." Magandula, scrubbing his shoes, becomes excIted and speaks shrilly : "To live in the bush is bad! Hasn't the government taught us to live in houses? I want nothing to do with the bush!" In recent years, the government has made the Hadza a symbol of primitive apathy to their countrymen, who are exhorted to In- crease their numbers and work hard on their shambas-"Don't rot in the bush like the Tindiga! " An old man, Mutu, comes tottering to his hearth and sinks down in a heap against a stone. He no longer bothers with his bow and arrows, which rot in the hush hehind his head; the sad old broken arrows with their tattered vanes are the hOTI1e of spiders. Mutu IS back from beggIng maize at an lVlbulu sham- ba, and complains of his feet, which are leprously cracked and horned up to the anklebone. To I11Y touch, his afflicted flesh feels rubbery and dead. Once, Mutu walked as far east as Mbulu, where he came by his disease. "Things like this" -and he flicks his ruined flesh, contemptuous, lip curling around a villainous old mouthful of snag teeth-"you don't find in the bush" In proof of hIs corruption by the world, Mutu begs cynically for two shillingi- the only Hadza who has begged at all-and is happy to accept a dove in- stead. Despite his misery and decrepi- tude, he has no wish to visit th e d is pen sa r y at Yaida Chini, dnd wavc.. dwav the offer of a ride. Already he has his stone pipe lit, tuck- 1ng a red cinder into it with his bare fingers, and now he lies back laughing at some ancient joke, coughing ec- statically after the cUStOl11 of his people. Twig-legged Mutu is big-bellied as a baby, IVIng there in the sun- light in his swaddling. He rails at life with unholy satisfactIon, and so do two old women whose hearths ad join his own at the base of a great tilted rock with rounded top that might be the gravestone of God. All three worn-out souls are of separate families, and fiercely main tain their family hearths as symbols of the independence that is so vital to the Hadza N one of them has relatIves at Gidabembe, yet Mutu has maize and berries for his sup- per, and so do his two neighbors. F our naked children have clambered up into a grewia bush and hunch there In the branches, knees under their chins,